


It's All So Clear To Me Now

by foolishgames



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Found Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 22:00:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/483331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolishgames/pseuds/foolishgames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The girl at the store said it was a geranium. Parkerfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All So Clear To Me Now

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to livejournal February 2009

The girl at the store said it was a geranium.

There were no flowers on it yet but she could see the buds swelling where the flowers would be, the green wrapped tight around the colour. She watered it whenever she was in the office, giving it a quarter-turn every two days so all of the delicate green leaves could get the best sunlight on the wide windowsill.

Hardison bought her a little watering can. It was a joke – or at least she thought it was a joke – but she used it anyway, because she liked the sound it made, like rain.

She liked the plant, because it was hers, because she’d bought it when it was just a few green shoots in a pot of dirt and now it was glossy green and spilling over the sides of the pot and about to bloom, because she watered it and took care of it and kept it in the sun. 

“It’ll need a bigger pot soon,” said Eliot, with that funny, gentle smile he got sometimes. “It’s gonna outgrow that little thing.” He and Hardison were hiding in her office to keep out of the way of Nate and Sophie, because they were doing their sexual-tension thing again and it made everyone uncomfortable.

“Do you think?” she asked, and touched the leaves. “How big do they get?”

Hardison laughed. “Not much bigger than that,” he said, “but you could get a planter box, keep a whole lot of them.”

“They could be friends,” she said, charmed by the idea. 

Hardison grinned, big. “You could get all different types,” he said. “Start a collection.”

“Get a cactus,” suggested Eliot. “Or one of those little bonsai things, the miniatures.”

“Give ‘em names,” said Hardison, getting into the spirit of things. “Jim, Jack and Jose.”

“Sid, Curly, Larry and Moe,” Eliot chimed in.

“Nate, Sophie, Alec and Eliot,” said Parker, and could see by their faces that it wasn’t quite right.

“Yeah,” said Hardison, after a moment. “Yeah, if you like.”

~

They hung out at Hardison’s mostly. Eliot was paranoid and messy, and Parker wasn’t set up for guests, but Hardison had his great big shiny loft and way more space than anybody could possibly need.

They watched spy movies a lot, heist and action movies, mostly for the entertainment value. The night they watched the fourth Die Hard movie, Parker laughed so hard she slid off the couch and giggled helplessly into her knees, Eliot had to excuse himself to the bathroom every twenty minutes, and Hardison got extremely drunk and swore a lot.

Sometimes Eliot cooked. Hardison had a huge kitchen but subsisted mostly off pretzels and energy drinks, and Parker had never tried, but Eliot seemed to enjoy it, humming to himself as he chopped things and clattered pans and always left the mess for Hardison to clean up. Parker didn’t think he knew that Hardison had a maid service come twice a week, and she wasn’t about to spoil anyone’s fun.

The first time she fell asleep at Hardison’s she woke up scared out of her brain and nearly took Eliot’s eye when he came to wake her. Because she’d fallen asleep on the couch, and when she woke up she was in an unfamiliar bed, under the blankets, with no shoes on. She’d fallen asleep with other people around. They’d moved her while she slept, and she hadn’t noticed, hadn’t even stirred, and she freaked so hard she was fleeing through the lobby before she realised she was barefoot, and then she had to go back up to get her shoes. Alec gave her coffee as she walked gingerly back in, and there was an omelette waiting for her, and Eliot was hardly smirking at all, so she stayed for breakfast. 

~

Parker thought that maybe Nate thought she was stupid. And she knew that Sophie did.

She wasn’t stupid.

You didn’t get to be as good a thief as she was by being stupid. She just didn’t see the world the way everyone else did. Okay. And maybe she wasn’t the best at understanding people, true. But she wasn’t stupid. 

She knew that Nate went every month to a local children’s hospital. He talked to the doctors, and to the parents, and spent time sitting with kids and reading. He hated it. Hated hospitals, was uncomfortable around kids, couldn’t quite meet the parents’ eyes. But he went. And he came back to the office, always, instead of back to his apartment. And then he drank a lot and the next day his forehead would be in little painful lines and he would keep the lights turned down. 

Parker knew this was because of his son. But she didn’t know why he kept going if it hurt so much.

She knew that Sophie kept going to auditions. Sophie was a bad actress, and if even Parker could tell, then you must be pretty bad. She didn’t know how Sophie couldn’t tell how bad she was, or why Sophie could only act when she thought she was getting away with something. But lately she had been going to auditions less often, and Parker thought maybe it wouldn’t be all that long until Sophie stopped trying altogether. Parker thought, that it might be around the time Sophie and Nate stopped the dance they were doing and just have sex already.

It certainly worked that way for Alec and Eliot.

That was a secret she loved knowing, because Nate didn’t know, and neither did Sophie. It felt like something big, to see the purpling marks on Alec’s brown skin, the way Eliot’s hands closed on his wrists as he taught Alec to make scrambled eggs properly. They sat next to each other on video nights, close, touching all along their sides, shifting and moving occasionally so their skin slid and rubbed until Parker felt all warm just from watching them and had to leave to splash water on their face. Sometimes when she got back they had changed positions, or Alec’s shirt had more buttons undone, or Eliot’s hair all messed up. 

Some nights she sat closer than she had to, on the couch, and felt the warmth radiating from the both of them, heard their breathing. It made her hands shake, a little.

They still got cranky with each other – if there was a force in the world that could make Eliot less belligerent they had yet to find it – but now Alec just laughed at him and moved back far enough that Eliot couldn’t smack him. 

And when they fought, really, angry arguing and calling each other names and threatening each other with dire fates, those were the nights that Parker wouldn’t come over for video night, because she wasn’t stupid. 

She knew.

~

Parker thought sometimes maybe she should be more upset than she was about everyone but her pairing off. She was curious to see if the sex was different with somebody you knew and liked. If maybe it got better the second or third time, without the awkward fumbling of what-do-you-like and how-far-can-I-go and is-this-okay.

She thought that Nate would cry during sex, because of that guilt he carried around with him all the time, and Sophie would comfort him and push him at the same time until he got the hell over it. Sophie was like that, a challenge and a balm, all sultry and seductive like one of those ladies out of the black-and-white films Eliot liked.

She knew Eliot was a biter, the evidence scattered over Alec’s skin some mornings. She was pretty sure Alec would laugh and talk a lot during sex the way he laughed and talked all the time. She thought maybe it would be rough between them, all wrestling and pinning and growling, slipping and sliding and rolling. She thought maybe she’d like to see that.

She wanted, sometimes, but that was okay. Because Sophie would occasionally drag Parker out shopping, tossing clothes at her from all sides and making her try them on, barging into the changing rooms to adjust straps and drape her with necklaces and belts until she found some perfect combination. Then she’d clap her hands happily and call Parker “darling” and sometimes hug her. Parker didn’t always like the clothes Sophie picked, but she wore them anyway, because Sophie always looked so proud when she noticed.

And Alec and Eliot – it was weird that she’d started to think of them that way, AlecandEliot, because they were completely different and fought a lot and didn’t really get along except, presumably, when they were having sex. But they both treated her the same, touched her more than she ever liked to be touched. It was different, though, when they were the ones touching her, and she didn’t mind. Eliot’s hand on her back to guide her through doors, like a gentleman. Alec grabbing her shoulder as he leaned past her to get to the coffee, his chest pressed all up along her back. Both of them, grabbing her arm to get her attention, ruffling her hair, poking her in meetings.

(Sometimes she pretended to fall asleep at Alec’s for video night, because then she got Eliot’s arms around her, carrying her like weighed nothing, Alec taking off her shoes, and brushing her hair back from her face and covering her with the blankets. She liked that.)

Sometimes she would catch Nate looking – not at her, but at them, at all of them in the conference room or on a job, with this look. Like he couldn’t quite believe it, that he had ended up here, with this group of people. Like maybe it was something good, like he was proud of them.

~

The refrigerator in the office is stocked with orange soda, for Alec, and the hazelnut syrup Sophie puts in her coffee. There is a constant low-key contest to find the places Nate hides the bottles and hide them somewhere else so he won’t find them. Sophie always yells at Eliot for leaving his sweaty towels all over the place after he works out, and Nate scolds Parker for coming in through the window instead of the front door like a normal person and messing up the security system, and everybody is mildly disgusted by Alec’s habit of eating food that’s been on the floor and Eliot’s lack of personal hygiene. (Parker knows he showers quite regularly – he just has sensitive skin and doesn’t like to shave that often, which makes Alec cackle hysterically.)

Parker’s never stuck in one place this long, never been with people she had to learn to fit around. The longest she ever stayed at a foster home, even, was only six months, but she’s been sticking it out here now for almost a year, and she’s waiting for that itchy feeling under her skin that won’t come.

Nate is at the head of the table, flipping through a stack of photographs. He looks up and smiles at Parker when she comes in, and she smiles back and nods, and he looks pleased when she puts a cup of coffee down in front of him.

Eliot grabs her from behind and lifts her off her feet just to hear her squeak, and laughs when she slaps at him. Sophie straggles in, kidding around with Hardison about a show that was on TV last night, something about geeks and their toys. Eliot joins in the teasing; Parker makes a joke about Alec’s dalek costume, and Alec says if they’re all going to make fun of him he’s taking his cool toys and going to play by himself. Sophie and Nate exchange a fond, amused look: aren’t our kids cute.

“Okay,” says Alec at last, and claps his hands. “Let’s get started, people.”


End file.
